


Standing In the Breach

by Misbehaving



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 16:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16916142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misbehaving/pseuds/Misbehaving
Summary: A scene from the day of George H.W. Bush's funeral.  Washington D.C. 2018. Related to The Most Tender Part of Love.





	Standing In the Breach

 

**December 5, 2018**

Quietly Will closed the bedroom door and rejoined his wife and in-laws in the living room of their suite at the Hay Adams Hotel. Plopping down next to MacKenzie on the sofa, he sighed.

“Marathon tonight?” she asked.

“More like the decathlon,” he replied.  “Three individual prayers, three drinks of water, three stories, and three songs.  Remind me how it happened to be my turn again?” he asked her.

“Because they like you best.”

Playfully, he patted her on the knee. “That’s your story, huh?”

“My parents are here, and I don’t get to see them often enough.”

“We’re here all week, MacKenzie,” Patrick McHale pointed out.

“Exactly,” Will agreed.  “Besides, your parents are my parents.  Don’t I get a turn?”

“Yes, you do,” Margaret McHale assured him.

He looked at his wife with a gloating smile. She elbowed him gently and then said, “At least Morgan is coming with us tomorrow,” Mac said.  “She can be in charge of the Tornado.”

The “Tornado” was their three-year-old, Charlie; and Morgan, their nineteen-year-old niece, who was a freshman at Georgetown. She had bucked McHale family tradition, opting instead for her American father’s alma mater. 

“Patrick, have you forgiven her yet for not attending—what is it Mac, Oxford?”

Mac rolled her eyes at him.

“Morgan MacKenzie has always been as American as her aunt.”

“It is wonderful having her so close,” MacKenzie chimed in.  “It’s not easy, you know, being the youngest child of a skilled diplomat who keeps getting assigned to various hotspots around the globe.”

“And the only girl in her case,” Margaret said. “Of course, she also has a soft spot for her Uncle Will.  She always believed the two of you would get married and she would not listen to anyone who said otherwise.”

He smiled.  “Good thing she isn’t the only wide-eyed optimist in the family, and incredibly patient, too.”

“We got there in the end,” MacKenzie insisted.

“And quickly made up for lost time,” Patrick added in a blatant tease.

“Weren’t you the one who told me that she is the most Catholic of all your children?” Will threw back.

Patrick laughed.  “She does have a way of keeping us on our toes.”

“She’s sitting right here,” MacKenzie said with a pout.  “I have no idea what the two of you are talking about and weren’t we discussing Morgan?”

“Yes, and I was just saying how much we love having her in our home so frequently on weekends.”

“Idiot,” she said affectionately.

“That’s lovable idiot to you, sugar plum.”  He did love having Morgan around.  She absolutely adored her aunt.  She was so much like MacKenzie that at times it took his breath away. The kids were also crazy about her and she was great with them.  She stayed with the kids during George H.W. Bush’s funeral today but had a lecture to attend tonight. After the funeral, she and MacKenzie took the kids to the Natural History Museum while he caught up with some of his former White House colleagues.

Morgan would, however, thankfully be joining them for their trip to Orlando tomorrow.  The kids had given him a trip to Walt Disney World for his birthday a few weeks ago.  MacKenzie’s parents were also accompanying them since the death of President George H.W. Bush had brought them to the U.S. for the funeral.  The trip came at a good time. They needed a vacation, particularly his wife.  However, after several days spent running around theme parks, they likely would need a vacation from their vacation.

Only after his marriage to MacKenzie did he learn how close his father-in-law was to his former boss.  He had always known about the similarities in their professional backgrounds, and that they had worked together during the late 1980s, when Patrick served as British Ambassador to the United States during the first half of 41’s presidency (of course, Patrick was only a name to him then).  Additionally, they had both served as Ambassadors to the United Nations, and as diplomats in China (George H.W. in mainland China and Patrick in Hong Kong while assisting with the transfer of that island’s government from the United Kingdom back to China). What Will had not known, however, was the depth of their friendship and communication over the years.

All of that became clear once he and MacKenzie had children and her parents began to make frequent trips to see them.  It was then the invitations came to visit George H.W. and Barbara Bush at Walker’s Point with his in-laws.  Initially, he and MacKenzie were reluctant to accept (particularly with the “crazies” in tow).  However, it was quickly made clear to them that small children were not an inconvenience in the Bush compound, but a source of joy. 

And the continuing education in foreign affairs and diplomacy he received from his former boss and father-in-law was invaluable. Even more important, however, were the lessons they taught in how to be a better husband and father.

“Will?” MacKenzie nudged him.

“Hmm?”

“You were in your head again.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, putting an arm around her shoulder.

“Don’t be,” Margaret again assured him.  “You know how frequently Patrick does the exact same thing.”

“Big thoughts to think and problems to solve, my dear,” Patrick pointed out to her.

Will smiled before asking, “Is anyone hungry? I could order room service or go pick up something.”

“We ate at the embassy,” Margaret said.

“And later at the Canadian Embassy with the Mulroneys,” Patrick added with a grin.

Will laughed.  “So how many toasts were there?”

“A few.”

Will laughed again.

“Why don’t the two of you go out? And leave us with the children,” Margaret suggested.

“What do you say, honey?  Feel up to it?” Will asked his wife.

“Just so long as I don’t have to pour myself into that black dress and hose again.”

“You get time off for good behavior… but you did look amazing in it.”

“Lovable idiot,” she teased, as he helped her up off the sofa.

XXXXXXXXX

Ultimately, they put on some warm clothes and set out on a walk, something they found themselves doing often when in Washington’s city.   As they walked out of the hotel, he asked, “How about walking to the Korean Memorial tonight?  Is that too far for you?”

“An interesting choice,” MacKenzie told him.

He shrugged.  “Yeah… just something I’ve been thinking about.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll tell you about it when we get there.  We don’t need to walk though.  We can take a cab.”

“I’m fine, Will.  But I won’t turn down a hot cocoa on the way.”

“Deal,” he agreed.  “Isn’t there a Starbucks a few blocks down the road?”  There was.  They sipped slowly, using the tall cups as handwarmers as they walked past the World War II Memorial and along the long reflecting pool between there and the Lincoln Memorial.  Along the way, they talked about the funeral, and about their separate memories of the years of 41’s presidency.  Of course, MacKenzie was only nine when he was inaugurated which made their whole conversation rather humorous.

She waited until they stood at the base of the Korean Memorial in silence for several minutes before she said, “What’s going on inside your head, Billy?  What puzzle are you working on?”

“All the talk the past few days about World War II and George H.W.’s. valor there, and, you know, the Greatest Generation. I mean, all of it is absolutely true, but it got me thinking about this war and about my father’s service there.”

“I had no idea.  Army?” she asked.  She knew he was thinking aloud.  With something so important, she would let him do so at his own pace.  But she would guide him and, when necessary, push him along the way.

“Yes, for eighteen months.  To be honest, I never gave it any thought either.  He never talked about it and I wasn’t smart enough to ask…”

“Will, you were a boy.  Please don’t blame yourself for something like that,” she insisted with a gentle yet firm voice.

“I know, honey.  I only meant that they call it the Forgotten War for a reason.  There was no triumphant homecoming and victorious conclusion to that conflict.  Nor was there outrage like with Vietnam.”

“That’s true.”

“I just wish that I had talked to him about it—or with my mother.  I can’t help but wonder how much that experience contributed to his anger and his alcoholism.  Maybe if I really understood that earlier, our relationship could have been different.”

She took his hand.  “At least you got to start building a better relationship with him before he died.”

“Thanks to you,” he agreed. 

“No way, Billy.  You made that change happen before we got back together.”

“Because of you....  I just can’t help but wonder whether things with my dad would have changed that much earlier had we stayed together.  If I hadn’t freaked out, and for so long.”

“And it was my fault you freaked out.”

He turned to her and placed his hands lightly around her waist.  “No, it wasn’t, MacKenzie.”  He sighed and then added, “This is where we fall back into bad habits and trading rounds of mutual self-incrimination, isn’t it?

She nodded up at him.  “We still do it on occasion, even after seven years.”

“Then let’s just stop and embrace that for us to have the family we’ve made, it was necessary for us to learn important lessons apart.  I wouldn’t trade our life now for anything.”

“Even the little surprise I threw at you six weeks ago?”

He pulled her close.  “You are a good Catholic girl after all.”

“I’d rather be a naughty Catholic girl,” she told him with a flirty pout.

“Are you seducing me, Mrs. McAvoy?”

“I hope so... but only in a bed. It’s too cold and I swear my back is already hurting. I feel so much bigger at this stage than before.”  Her eyes darted down to her midsection.

He reached out and lay a hand over the curve of her small, but distinctly round bump.  She was fourteen weeks pregnant and her belly had grown exponentially within the past week. “Are you sure little McAvoy number 5 isn’t also hiding in there? Not that it matters one bit.”

“You were at the ultrasound. Though I’m sure stranger things have happened. If so, you’d have your own basketball team.”

“So I would...”

“Stop it!” She hit his chest.  “We are not coming close to a baseball team, let alone a football team.”

“Heaven forbid,” he agreed.  “I’m too old as it is.  But you?  You are beautiful, and I love you very much—and baby number four, and number five if we get a repeat.”

“Let’s just stick with number four.”

“Deal.”  He leaned down and kissed her to seal this agreement, which really wasn’t an agreement at all since Mother Nature had all the power.  “Why don’t we go back to the hotel, and order room service.  I’ll give you a back rub and you can seduce me.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Lovable idiot,” he insisted.  “There are little ears present.  And did I mention that I’m thinking about quitting the news business and running for office?”  He kissed her shocked face before she could answer.  “Don’t worry, we'll have plenty of time to discuss it after Mickey Mouse.”

**Author's Note:**

> A little scene that came to mind as I worked late the other night while watching the funeral for President George H.W. Bush. The title comes from a portion of Jon Meacham's eulogy.


End file.
